


we'll paint over the evidences (with more blood)

by myheadsamess



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: AU- serial killer, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Borderline Personality Disorder, Credence needs help, Daddy Kink, Detective!Graves, F/M, Flashbacks, JUST, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Oral Sex, Schizophrenia, Violence, lots of smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 12:23:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8750725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myheadsamess/pseuds/myheadsamess
Summary: Graves stares at the boy's back, and waits. When no answer comes, he tentatively calls:
  
  "Credence?"

 
  "Hmpf. Who knows" 
Ah. Kevin, then. 
  In which Credence is on the run and Graves is the detective that must capture him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Alright. So, this is the first fic I write for this movie. So. I'm a bit nervous.  
> I've done my research on the mental illnesses depicted in this story, but as I did all of them on the internet, I might - surely - have got something wrong. Please be patient with me. Also, the first chapter is rather short, I know. The next will be longer, hopefully. The prompt is taken from a tumblr edit, that I stupidly didn't save. If you know the author, please tell me who they are so that I can give them credit.  
> Thanks to everyone who will read, leave kudos or - please please please - leave a comment!  
> Enjoy!

 

 

 

 

 

Credence stares at his reflection in the dirty mirror.

His hair are getting longer, the tips tickle the sides of his neck. His eyes are circled by blueish halos. His lips twist into a smile that doesn't belong in his face.

He wants to curl up under the sink and cry forever- even if the floor stinks of piss and there's a used condom a few millimeters from his shoe. A sob escapes his mouth, and the figure in the mirror rolls his eyes to the ceiling.

(Will you stop whining for five fucking minutes? Let me think in peace? Please)

"Shut up," Credence manages to stop a tear with the sleeve hem, "Just shut up, Kevin"

(If I did) Kevin snickers, placing both his palms against the glass (you'd be completely lost. Look at you. You're making me loose precious time)

And Credence hates to admit it, but he's right. (Of course I am) he pulls the sweatshirt hood up and exits the bathroom, rubbing at his cheeks with bruised knuckles. The air inside the diner is hot and humid, suffocating; but as soon as Credence leaves, he regrets it.

Trembling in the December breeze, he rushes to where his - mother - car is parked and launches himself on the seat. With shaking hands, he starts the engine. He waits for the car to heat up, blowing hot breath on his fingers.

It's a quiet night. Credence counts the days to come, and realizes there are only two weeks until Christmas. Two weeks, God.  
Had he been home, the church would have been in the midst of preparing for the come of Christ.

(But we're not home anymore)

 

***

 

It had been a night like many others, Credence had just put Modesty to bed, wished Chastity a good night and prepared breakfast for the next morning; and like many other times, Ma' had found an excuse to take the whip out of the drawer.

He had been feeling nervous all day - more so than usual - probably Mary Lou had noticed, too, and acknowledged it as a sign of deviousness. And so here she came, stern face and hands balled into fists.

"Credence," she said, mouth a thin line in the pale valley of her face, "Come here"

"No," Kevin had responded for him, slipping in the conversation in such a casual way that Credence didn't notice until he turned and saw the woman's expression.

"Excuse me?"

Credence opened his trembling lips to beg forgiveness, and what came out was: "I said no, you stupid cunt".

Oh lord. Oh, Lord, he was hopeless. Ma' would have beaten him dead.

"Ah," she tilted her head upwards, "I see. It's that devil inside you that's speaking, isn't he?"

Credence didn't even try to nod, nor did he reply- he let Kevin take control and relaxed his muscles. Maybe if he let him handle this, he'd also take the pain in his place.

"I'm gonna take it out," her voice was low, he could see her eyes filling with rage, "Once and for all"

What happened afterwards felt like a dream. Or a nightmare.

Kevin jumped against her and sent Mary Lou on the ground, knocking the breath out of her lungs.  
His hands - Credence's hands, their hands - grasped the whip. He held it in front of his face for a second, then raised his arm.

And then he flew it down, with all of his strength.

Credence flinched at the sound, expecting to feel the burn on his own flesh. But no. It was Ma' who let out a strangled cry, struggling to get up.

Kevin pressed one foot to her chest and Credence saw her face, where the whip had marked her skin, quickly turn an angry red.

He thought he'd heard a faint, "You'll go to hell for your sins," but couldn't be sure.

Retrieving the knife from the kitchen counter didn't take long, but it was enough to allow her to stand up. She was panting, hair plastered to her forehead with sweat. When she glanced at the knife, she gurgled, "Don't you dare, you-"

Kevin didn't let her finish. He was tired of hearing her nonsense, he would later tell Credence, when the corpses rested three meters under the ground, in the garden.

The metal cut through her belly with incredible ease. A patch of dark blossomed on her shirt. A few drops fell to her feet. She took a long, ragged breath, trying in vain to steady herself. Kevin stabbed her again, in the shoulder.

She crumbled to her knees.  
He had never seen Ma' so weak

Her body collapsed on the floor, convulsing. Credence knew he should have been sorry, or at the very least terrified. He knew the warm feeling of peace blossoming between his ribs was wrong but- well, she had started it. What had he done? He prayed. He did whatever she ordered him to.

It was her fault. Yes. That was it.

"Credence?"

Chastity looked at him from the other side of the room, horrified. Behind her, Modesty stared at Ma's unmoving form.

Suddenly, he remembered all the times Chastity would watch Ma' whip his hands ( or his back, or his thigh, or- ) without doing anything to help him. He remembered all the times Modesty would tell lies to Ma', making her believe he hadn't fulfilled his duty, or committed a sin.

"What have you-?"

"Don't worry," Kevin murmured, tightening his hold on the knife. He inched forward.

"It's gonna be all right"

 

***

 

There is a man staring at him. From an alley near the club Credence just left.  
Credence can only make out the outlines of his figure, thanks to the neon lights of the diner- but he can tell he is looking right at him. He feels those piercing eyes, like needles.

Kevin stays silent, for a while.

Then, he says (Go talk to him) and Credence shakes his head.  
No. No no no no. He isn't going to do what he tells him ever again.

(What are you afraid I'd do? He's twice our size, idiot. C'mon)

"No," Credence buries his face in the palms of his hands, "I don't wanna- you could- no, you will-"

But it's too late. Credence sense himself slip and in a matter of seconds, Kevin is in command. He screams against the invisible restrains of his own mind, to no use.

Kevin takes a minute to readjust his hair, then opens the car door. With his typical confidence, he strolls up to where the man is waiting, "Hey," he calls, though the stranger has been looking at him since he left the car.

"You got a cig?"

The man is handsome in a rough, unpolished way. His hair have been cut at the sides, but they are already growing. His coat looks expansive, but reeks of alcohol. And his eyes are focused, never distracting from the subject.

(And how could they? I'm the subject)

Credence agrees. He has never considered himself beautiful. Not even pretty. Passable, perhaps, with a different haircut- Kevin, however. He has a... something, that attracts people. A charm.

Ma' used to punish him for that.

The man nods, fishing a box from one pocket and offering a stick. Kevin reaches for it and the tips of their fingers brush.

He places it between his lips, making a show of searching through his pockets, "Oops. You don't happen to have a lighter, do you?"

"Actually," the smiles he throws at him is patient, but there's a peculiar glint into his dark eyes- Credence doesn't understand fully what it is, if it's important, or if he's just overthinking it.  
"I do"

Kevin hums appreciatively, then, with the cigarette balancing at the corner of his mouth, he leans towards the older man, eyes half closed. There is silence, then a click and immediately after, a orange hue illuminates his face.

Credence can feel the heat of the flame close to his skin. The tip of the cigarette catches it and Kevin takes a deep breath.

When the smoke curls into his lungs, he almost coughs his throat out.

They've never even touched a cigarette, let alone smoked one.

The strangers chuckles, "Aren't you a bit too young for those?"  
Kevin picks the cig from his lips and snorts, "Look who's talking," that earns him a questioning eyebrow and the twitch of a mouth.

"Aren't you a bit too old to hit on me?"  
Oh no.

Kevin lets the cigarette slip from his fingers onto the wet ground, where it dies with a hissing sound. The man stares at him, "You came to me," he states, and Credence does not fail to notice that he doesn't deny Kevin's accusation.

"Yeah, well. I'm just a poor, impressionable, young boy," he taps his index against his lower lip, pretending to be lost in thoughts, "You could have easily manipulated me in... oh, I don't know,"

Kevin slowly sinks to his knees, until he hits the ground and - what he hopes is - water wets his jeans.

No, Credence protests, not this.

A few seconds pass without neither of them talking. Then the man's hands go to the fly of his pants and begin undoing it.

(Why?)

(Because I can)

Kevin swallows him the instant he pulls it out, or at least, he tries to. He goes as far as halfway before gagging. A gush of saliva floods his mouth and he has to pull away.

He savors the taste of salt in his mouth, and decides that he likes this.

Next, he wraps his lips around the tip, flickering his tongue on the slit witch childish amusement. When he catches a drop of pre, he moans loudly- he's regarded by a hand pulling at his hair, and a: "Hush, boy"

(Oh, yes. I like this)

He starts sucking with tenancy, pleased at the grunts and huffs that the stranger makes. Credence must admit, he has never felt as powerful.

But ultimately, it's the light brush of teeth that puts the guy over the edge. He lets his face be pressed against his crotch, nose buried in a brush of thick fur. Kevin drinks down all the come even as his oesophagus starts burning.

The man allows him to take a gulp of air before pulling him up and pinning him against the wall of the alley. He is still hard, and the impact with the cold bricks tear a pained moan out of him. The man takes hold of both his wrists.

"My name is Graves, by the way," he whispers in his ear. There's a metallic clink, and soon after, his hands are blocked together by a pair of handcuffs.

 

"And you, Credence Barebone, are under arrest for the homicide of Mary Lou, Chastity and Modesty Barebone"

 

***

 

Well, Credence thinks, you sure as hell didn't consider that.  
(Oh, shut the fuck up)


End file.
